In Madness, Life
by AvionExile
Summary: They met long ago and found fire in each other like they'd never seen before. After years apart, they meet again, and despite his responsibilities, Ignis can't help but let it distract him.
1. Again

Their eyes meet for the first time in years. There she is, just as he always remembered her behind closed eyes: short black hair carelessly laying over one side of her head, scarring along her eyebrow from an old piercing she'd long since forgotten, dark eyes burying the circles under her eyes, and freckles along her nose and cheeks, darkening her olive skin. Her deft hands pockmarked with years of chemical burns and small cuts from hours in the lab. Her dark eyes flick between him and his companions as she sheds her lab coat. She hangs it on a peg inside the door as she enters her home, closing the door too slowly. Ignis can almost feel the tension pulling him in, inviting him, and sighs, never having dreamed he'd see her again. Flashes of her skin on his overtake his mind's eye for a moment until

"Hey, Specs," the prince says, beckoning his advisor's attention, "we're going in without you in a second."

"Right behind you," Ignis says, running a hand through his sandy brown hair and then placing it on his forehead.

. . .

Naya leans on her door, her heart pounding. He was exactly as she recalled. Her hands could still feel his satin hair, and she couldn't get the scent of him out of her mind, Ebony and hair gel, a clean smell with just a touch of franticness. She could feel him touching her, his control masking frustration within him as his hands slid along her body, grabbed her back, grasped the knape of her neck. She wondered if that fire still burned in him. She felt his eyes on her door and sighed. Peeking through the tinted glass at the top of her door, she watched him wander into the tavern nearby, a place she went on any normal night. Her heart continued to race at the thought of seeing him again after all this time.

. . .

Laughter echoes from the tavern as the boys walk in. People notice the prince and his retinue, but for the most part they don't pay them any mind. Wiz had said this colony was mostly hunters and people who were quite far removed from the goings on of Insomnia. It was part of why he recommended they all travel here instead of sleeping at a haven for the night.

"Who'd have thought something like this would be out here in the woods!" Prompto says, excitedly panning the room, taking pictures of happy people with his camera. "Ignis, you really didn't know this was here?"

"The location wasn't marked with any significance on any of our maps, how could I?" he answers. Gladio nods and then speaks.

"Wiz said this was a new colony. Some researcher created an outpost here, and as more people filtered through, it steadily grew," he shakes his head incredulously, "It's still hard to believe this place is doing so well after seeing most of the outposts we drive through. You'd think the empire or daemons would've come through by now."

"Not for lack of trying!" the bartender approaches them, tall and beautiful, Prompto stares until Noctis elbows him in the arm. The bartender continues, ignoring the horseplay, "The woman who set this place up has it really well guarded. Daemons can't get close because of all the lights and generators, and the empire can't find us because of the thick tree cover."

"Woman?" Prompto asks, a little too intrigued. Ignis suspects he already knows what will come out of the barkeep's mouth.

"Her name's Naya, apparently she's some bigshot researcher from Insomnia, sent out here to research the nearby haven and ruins."

So you're still doing that? The doors open as if to answer him, and Naya steps in, dressed in tight pants and a loose tunic. A set of electric daggers sit at her belt, though she doesn't seem particularly on edge.

"Hey, Boss! Got your drink all set!" the barkeep placed the drink she'd been mixing at the bar. A seat was open in front of her well.

"Thanks, Criss," Naya's harsh voice reverberates from her mouth like a shockwave, the tenor tones reawakening Ignis in ways he didn't expect. She makes eye contact with him again briefly and eyes say find me later. "What did I say about calling me 'boss'?" she says playfully, skirting the boys and taking her place at the bar.

"Aw, come on, it's just a bit of fun," Criss winks, carelessly adding a straw to Naya's glass, and Naya takes a deep swig, relishing the burn of the alcohol in her throat. "You run this place and you know it."

"Running It and Keeping It Running are two different things, Criss," but a smile still sits on her lips. Ignis gets caught in her details, the wrinkle in the shoulder of her shirt, the shadow at her cheekbones, the mud in the seams of her jeans.

"What do you boys want to drink?" Criss asks, leaning over the bar and turning to them. Gladio orders a pitcher for him, Prompto, and Noctis, and Ignis orders something different.

"I'll have a Galahdin coffee, with Ebony, if you have it," he watches her smirk from the corner of his eye, and the bartender nods, brewing a cup.

"I'd be delighted, most folks around here order simple shit," she sets to work on his drink, and Gladio and the others move to a table with their pitcher. Gladio gives him a knowing look and ushers the other two along without causing a fuss while Ignis moves next to Naya. As he moves to take a seat in the stool next to her she shakes her head.

"It's chilly. How about we go sit by the fireplace when Criss finishes with your drink?" she asks, her gravelly voice striking him at every syllable. He nods and stands to the side of her. Naya dismounts her seat carefully when Criss comes over with his Galahdin coffee and begins to step toward the fireplace. Ignis doesn't know if she means to, but she draws him in with every step. It's all he can do to keep from stumbling over himself to follow her. He can feel Gladio's eyes return to him and he doesn't care. As he steps away, he hears them far away.

"What's Iggy doing?"

"That's an old friend of his from Insomnia, Prompto, don't worry about it." Ignis pushes them from his mind as he steps toward her.


	2. Electric

"Long time no see," she says, her face unreadable. His eyes have trouble separating from hers long enough to take a seat opposite her. There are two couches by the fire, and she is sitting against the arm of one, with her legs on the cushion and her back to the flames. Her eyes are on the prince, Prompto, and Gladio. "I wondered if I'd see you come through here. When I heard about Insomnia, I was certain of it."

"Why's that?"

"Because one of the tombs you're looking for is at the bottom of the ruins nearby."

Ignis knows he shouldn't be surprised. Her research would bring her deep into those ruins, and likely into the tomb itself.

"Was what I heard correct? Did you create this place?"

"It started as home base for my own operations. I built a small house up in a tree to keep my things and conduct my research, but that quickly got old. I ordered parts from Insomnia and Lestallum so I could build a house for myself. Researchers who came to get updates on my progress would stay with me, and so I added on. Hunters started to do the same, and before I knew it we were building new houses and setting up new lights, traps, walls. The people here don't want to deal with the conflict between Insomnia and the Empire. They don't want to worry about anything but living happily and within their means. It's created a nice little commune." She scratches her nose the way he remembers. She feels awkward. "When I was sent out here, I didn't expect to see another soul for more than the few days each month I was checked up on. This is quite a nice alteration of fate."

Silence sits heavily between them for a moment, and she sips her drink. The thick scent of rum and sugar enters his nose, and he watches a drop of condensation roll down the glass. Flashes of sweat sliding down her face appear when he blinks.

"It seems like rather a nice place," he says finally. "And you seem well."

"I am," she says pensively. And what about you? She yearns to ask after him. _Have you thought about me?_ She sees him cross his leg over the other and take another deep sip of his spiked coffee. She can smell the drink as he takes it from his lips. She asks the question, but only almost. "How are you? Insomnia can't have been easy."

"We're all coping," he barely answers. Her eyes find the cushion, and he watches her examine it through long eyelashes. "But I'm lucky to have the three of them with me."

She nods, biting her lip. The fire snaps behind her, coughing hot cinders into the air.

"It wasn't my choice," she says finally, turning to look him in the eye. His heart runs a marathon in his chest, "leaving, I mean. I wouldn't have—I would've said something."

"I see," he says simply, working as hard as he can not to betray any deeper emotion. She takes another drink and tries to continue.

"I got into some trouble with my research. Let a daemon loose in the Citadel basement. My superiors thought it best that I continue outside Insomnia's walls. My time out here was a much a punishment as it was an assignment. Until Insomnia fell, I was being tracked daily to ensure that I didn't try to leave a certain radius."

Conflicting emotions swirl in his chest. He watches her fingers toying with a necklace hanging at her breast. "I know we were never—it was never more than what it was, but I wanted to make sure you knew I didn't leave without saying anything by choice. I would've said something," she breaks eye contact and looks at her hands, "if I'd known."

"That's fine," his heart rises and falls simultaneously, "as you said, it was nothing serious."

She smiles, though her eyes are heavy. He is stiff as always. She used to tell him he was too uncomfortable with comfort. Part of her is happy that some things don't change. He pushes his glasses up and looks into her eyes again.

"So what have you been doing out here besides building a town?" He asks, some amusement in his eyes. Naya laughs lightly, sending shockwaves through his ears.

"Research, as always. I've been applying my anti-daemon research to the haven nearby. I figure, if a big glowing rock can stave off the Scourge, then there's something we can learn from it," her eyes grow heavier, "but so far it's been slow going. I've made some progress, but unfortunately I'm missing something important. I've deciphered the runes on the rocks, but I haven't been able to figure out what is imbuing them with power. For all their similarities, havens have a deeper energy and a different signature than the crystal. I've been working between the haven and the ruins to find a way to make that power portable."

"Sounds like you're making progress though, if you've been able to translate the runes," Ignis says, leaning forward onto his knees. "I was under the impression that we had nothing to compare them to to translate them."

"That's how I found the tomb at the bottom of that ruin. I recognized some of the rune signatures on the opening. The place only opens at nightfall. Deep inside, there's even more use of the same runes, and even in and around that tomb. I was able to correlate most of the designs and work from there to determine a translation that I'm sure is accurate. The runes on each haven are all different words for protection, repellant, healing, safety; I just haven't figured out how to activate them. Even after many hours of experimentation on daemonic substances, I'm finding it very difficult to translate what I've learned to something we can use."

Her eyes light up as they always used to when she talked about her work. Ignis continued digging, asking questions, suggesting solutions, and as usual she'd already thought of most of his points and counterpoints. Naya was thrilled to have someone who understood her work around again. Even as the fire in the fireplace died down, the light between them reignited. Hours pass and Naya realizes that almost no one is left in the bar when Criss clears her throat.

"Look, boss, it's about time you got some shuteye," she winks, "and I say that mostly because I want some shuteye."

Naya's eyes widen as she sees the room, and for the first time Ignis realizes that his friends left a long time ago. "They've turned in," Criss speaks before being asked, "told me to tell you to take your time catching up."

"Oh, I see," Ignis stiffens, and Naya frowns. He had relaxed during their conversation. She isn't ready to let him go, and he agrees. They hesitate for a moment as they gather themselves and stand.

"You know," Naya begins. She doesn't have to finish.

"Yes, let's." Ignis replies more fervently than he wants to. Naya's eyes widen for a moment and she waves to Criss as they step outside.

"It's this way," she continues, taking his hand. He can feel her pulse in her fingertips, and assumes she can feel his. Naya fumbles with her keys and opens the door hastily. A heady rush of air leaves the house, and Ignis is caught in the most potent form of her scent. He remembers it vividly from those nights all those years ago, where he would lose himself in her.

She locks the door and turns to him. There is no hesitation, the distance between them closes and their lips meet feverishly in the middle. The familiarity in their touch escapes neither of them, both are lost in the moment and in visions of the past. Everything rushes through them all at once, and for a moment nothing has changed, no time has passed, and they are as they were. He lifts her up and they make it to the living room rug, barely inside the house, before they can wait no longer.


	3. Normal

She brought her blankets into the living room, and the two lie next to a new fire, even as the sun begins to rise. Naya fell asleep long ago, but Ignis stayed awake, soaking her in. Light peeks into the blinds, and Ignis watches the warm glow of the sunrise strike her hair and her naked shoulder. Ignis lies on his side, with his head on his hand. His glasses are on the couch beside them, and his free hand is stroking her cheek. She blinks awake.

"I'm sorry," he says casually, "I didn't mean to wake you."

She smiles, scooting close and kissing his shoulder lightly. "That's fine," she says, "I need to get back to work soon anyway. And you'll need to get back to His Highness."

"I'm sure Noct won't be awake any time soon, no rush."

"Yeah but," she said yawning, "judging by the stack of empty pitchers I saw as we left, I'm assuming he'll need your assistance getting off the bathroom floor," she kisses him again and his head swims, "and I really need to get to my work. You gave me a couple ideas yesterday and I'm eager to work them out."

She makes to get up and then raises her eyebrows at him. He laughs. "You want me to turn away, after last night?"

"Where and when I choose my privacy is my concern, Ignis," she says flirtatiously. "A girl has to have some secrets." As his eyes close she slips out of the blankets and makes for her bedroom, swiftly closing the door. He opens his eyes when it's shut and dresses himself, hearing her in the kitchen, he follows the thick scent of Ebony and snakes his arms around her waist. Her outfit isn't too different from the day before. Boots, tight jeans, and a long tunic. The material is soft and loose, and her sleeves pass her wrists just a bit, she pulls them closer to her fingertips as if by habit.

"Here you go!" she hands him a travel coffee mug with piping hot Ebony in it. "Unfortunately you'll have to give it just a bit longer than you think, that mug is very well insulated."

"I'll take that under advisement," he says, stepping away from her as she caps her own mug. "Shall I plan on coming back around to return this to you then?"

"I assume you'll want to sleep after you explore Costlemark. I'll be waiting to get my mug back then, so don't lose it! I lost my last one down there a while ago when I was avoiding an Iron Giant."

"Given that, I shall have to stop at the store on our way out. I think we'll need more curatives than I'd anticipated."

Naya watches his finger hit his bottom lip as he thinks, every motion so painfully familiar.

"Ignis, you know—"

"Same rules?" he says quickly. She stares for a second, processing, he continues unbidden, "when we leave the house, we're to act normal."

Her heart pangs, that wasn't exactly how Naya wanted this to go. But she wasn't sure what she should've expected, it's not like he can very well stay. And she can't exactly leave. So much time has passed, and things have changed a lot, despite how familiar every piece of him was.

"Right. That's probably for the best."

As so many times before, the stiff aura of a royal advisor returned, and the casual care he showed her in the morning halflight fled, taking a piece of her heart with it. She shows him out the door, donning her labcoat and locking the door quickly behind her.

"The store is that way, so it's on the way out if you're headed to Costlemark. Advise your friends to operate with care. The jabberwock that lives at the bottom is quite large and quite nasty."

"I shall do that," he says, "and you take care as well, Naya." Her name escaped his lips cautiously, and it felt anything but normal. She steels herself.

"I suppose I'll see you later then?" she says carefully. He smiles.

"Of course, as you said, we'll likely need to recuperate here after our foray into the tower."

"You're welcome anytime," she dares not further elaborate out here, though she can tell he knows what she means. They part ways, she travels to her lab closer to the haven, and he straightens up and heads into the tavern to await his friends.


	4. Choices

Gladio is already awake and reading through a breakfast menu, and his damp hair tells Ignis that he's already done his morning calisthenics and showered.

"Naya again, huh?" he says, shaking his head, "who'd have thought we'd run into her out here?"

"Save it, Gladio," Ignis says suddenly. Gladio is taken aback by his friend's sudden aggression. Despite the inevitable upcoming conversation, Ignis sits across Gladio at the table. This is a dead horse they've already beaten beyond recognition. Ignis bristles early.

"I didn't say anything yet."

"Yes, but I do believe I already know what you're going to say."

"Be careful with her, Iggy. She's burned you before," his friend's intentions were as good as any, but Ignis didn't want to treat the life in his veins with any more caution. He felt like he'd come back after being embalmed for years.

"It wasn't her fault."

"Do you really believe that?" Gladio hisses, leaning across the table. His voice is low so as not to attract attention. The people around here love her, if they heard Gladio speaking ill of her they'd likely not take too kindly.

"She was sent here with no way to leave or method to contact anyone on her own. There was very little she could do when they decided that—"

"This happened because of her own actions, Iggy," Gladio interrupts, "We've seen her type before, her research is priority one. Just because she didn't choose to leave you doesn't mean it isn't because of her."

"We can't know anything for sure," Ignis says. Gladio groans.

"You're smarter than this, Ignis. You're smarter than to let a girl twist you around like this."

"People make mistakes, Gladio. We don't crucify them for it," Ignis bites.

"People make choices, Ignis. Hers led her here. Where are you going to let yours lead you?"

"I'll not hear any more of this right now. There's nothing to argue over anyway. Never has been."

"Be careful, Iggy. I was weary of her then, but it's been years. Gods only know what happened to her in that time."

"You're overreacting, Gladio. It would behoove you to realize that."

"Good morning, guys!" Prompto exclaimed through a yawn. His fingers are at work fixing his hair, "Iggy, did you sleep and wake up while I was out?"

"Yes, is Noct up yet?" Ignis says, deflecting easily. Gladio rolls his eyes, sick of hearing Ignis lie because of her.

"Not completely, but I'm sure he'll head down when he wakes up enough to remember what 'you'll miss breakfast' means," Prompto says. Gladio laughs.

"Works every time. Have a seat and drink some water, kid, you went hard last night," Gladio slides the glass over to Prompto, smirking. Prompto shakes his head and drinks half of it on the spot.

"I do have a massive headache. Turning the flash off for today's photography," Prompto says, squeezing the bridge of his nose between two fingers. Ignis sighs.

"Luckily for you we won't have much to do right away. The tower doesn't open until nightfall, so we'll spend the day getting prepared. In your case, that means shaking off a hangover."

"What do you mean 'doesn't open until nightfall'?" Gladio asked.

"Naya informed me that Costlemark Tower is enchanted to only open when the sun sets. She hasn't worked out why or how to open it at will."

"That researcher that you were with yesterday?" Prompto asks. Ignis nods, but his eyes don't leave Gladio's, his gaze willing the big man to keep quiet. "Yeah, Gladio said yesterday that you were old friends. How do you know her?"

"She used to be posted at the Citadel, doing anti-daemon research for the king. I met her when we consulted her on a matter concerning logistics around bringing refugees to Insomnia at night. We needed to move groups of refugees silently and under cover of darkness, though most of those people were unable to fight daemons. She helped us develop portable devices to fight them off. Out here she's been continuing her research."

"Really?" Gladio feigns interest, "what experiments has she been running?"

"She's working on deciphering the runes used on the havens and creating a portable solution to the daemon problem based on that."

"Sounds like a fool's errand," Prompto says, "havens are magic, not science."

"Most scientific discoveries of note were considered fool's errands before progress was made," Ignis says, "she may change people's lives with her research."

. . .

Naya covers her tracks and gets to her research facility quickly. She doesn't need Ignis or anyone following her. She put her hut in the arms of a tall tree. Rather than abandoning it in favor of something on the ground, as she suggested, she kept it, and built her house on the ground far away. She wraps her legs around a branch as she unlocks it, 3 deadbolts and a fingerprint scanner. When she is inside, she bolts the locks behind her

When she gets inside, she puts her lab coat on a peg and removes her shirt. Scars decorate her arms, and pale tattoos swirl around her chest and abdomen. She retrieves a syringe from the table filled with dark, swirling scourge, and injects herself at the sight of her newest rune tattoo. It glows strangely, and the black liquid burns away almost immediately upon touching her vein. She presses a red button on the recorder next to her.

"Day 40 of the 13th trial, and the effect hasn't yet worn off. I see no fading in this round of tattooing, despite the previous trials fading drastically a week after application. Additionally, the ichor burns away as soon as it enters my body, a stark contrast from the previous 12 trials. In fact, I don't believe any of the scourge is left from the previous 12 trials either, though that will require further testing. I'm still waiting on equipment from Lestallum, but now that Insomnia has fallen, procurement is slow. The hunters don't understand that this research could solve the problems they're trying to fix with brute force. If I can properly study the substance I have imbued into my flesh, I could change everything."

She sits back and runs her hands through her hair. The next test will be living daemon subjects, and having passed the 40-day mark in this new round, Naya believes she is ready.


	5. Rifts

Ignis and the others return after nearly 36 hours in that hole. When he walks into town, he sees no lights on in Naya's house, and as they step into the tavern, he does not see her there either. It's just as well, he wants to shower before he returns her mug.

Gladio sees his sweeping glances and shakes his head, "Iggy, she's bad news. I know you don't want to admit it, but there's something off about her. Always has been."

Ignis ignores his friend. He always has. Gladio sees this happening again and sighs, letting it go. He always has.

"I am going to get washed up. Any objections to me going first?"

The others shake their heads, and Noctis is already collapsed on a couch, "Go for it, Specs. You're the quickest showerer anyway, so it makes the most sense."

. . .

Ignis stepped down the stairs and heard the familiar peal of her laughter. Her gaze fell to him almost instantly upon his entering the room. Criss saw him coming and mixed one of his drinks.

"Boss, you'll never guess what he did then!"

"Did he piss himself?" She asked smirking, the hunter she was speaking to visibly shrank. He was a large man with a mustache and shaggy brown hair.

"Well now that just ain't fair! You weren't supposed to be able to guess so easily!"

"It's Dino we're talking about, I feel like he's always on the edge of pissing himself," she said, taking a casual sip while everyone laughed, agreeing. Ignis felt alive seeing the life in her. She nodded him over.

"Ignis, this is Wayne. He lives around here, but travels frequently. He's just rolled back into town with a fresh batch of stories, hasn't he?"

"Damn straight!" he held his beer mug high and she clinked her glass with it.

"Wayne helped me establish this place! It took a lot of work to make it safe enough for non-hunters to be here. We haven't had a daemon attack since he came along," Naya was smiling and Wayne blushed from his mustache to his ears.

"You give me too much credit, Boss. This place would be nothing without your work. You're the one who took on setting up a whole community out here."

"Oh stop, it was a team effort and you know it."

"When the boss says it was a team effort," Criss interjects, "it means it was a team effort, Wayne. What she says goes."

"Fine, fine," he turns to Ignis, "I've learned never to argue with the barkeep, otherwise their wells run dry real fast, and real selectively."

"Damn straight," Criss says, and winks.

Ignis takes a seat next to Naya, and brushes her elbow with his. The effect is instant and electrifying. She turns to him, and he notices a small wound on her cheek. She sees him notice and shakes her head.

Wayne regales them with likely exaggerated tales of all the refugees he saved and MTs he destroyed, and the atmosphere is pleasant. Ignis could almost forget the turmoil that awaited him out in the world. That, he supposes, is the reason this place has attracted such a vast crowd of hunters and travelers.

Ignis is acutely aware of Gladio descending the stairs and sitting at a table across the tavern from him. Gladio opens a book and leans back, but Ignis knows he's there on purpose. Soon, Prompto and Noctis join him and play King's Knight on their phones while Gladio pretends to read.

"He still doesn't like me, huh?" Naya says suddenly in a hushed voice, "he hasn't turned a page in 20 minutes."

Ignis sighs, "it's nothing to worry about."

"Right. You got that mug of mine? I'm looking to take off in a bit," she looks at him and he can sense her meaning. He finishes his drink and produces the mug from his pocket. "Great. Why don't you help me carry it home?"

Ignis ignores the looks from the table behind him as he leaves with her.

. . .

"So we got a tip long ago that the Empire was experimenting with daemonic energy. That was the original reason for my research," she said. Ignis wasn't sure why she was divulging this to him, but he listened. He watched her excitement ripple into her chest and arms. Her gesticulations more wild the deeper she got into her recap. "I would need to research further or gain access to one of their facilities, but I have reason to believe that the MT units they use are daemonically charged. I'm just not sure how they're harvesting the energy. The only way I can think they would is, well it's too unspeakable to believe without evidence."

"What would that be?" Ignis asks, lightly smiling as Naya intakes a large breath to continue explaining. She sits clothed in front of him as he leans on her shoulder. It is torture, waiting for her to finish explaining, but he loves hearing it.

"Well, it would be to use humans and corrupt them with the Scourge. They could use what was left to inhabit the armor. But it would defeat the purpose of the MT unit, wouldn't it? The MTs are supposed to cut down on casualties by being a totally automated and mass-producible army, so it doesn't make sense if they're just harvesting citizens for it. Especially given how many get destroyed day to day. I haven't been able to find many intact MTs to research, and usually if I get one they self-destruct on me, so I haven't been able to learn anything from trying to capture one on my own, and if the unit is "killed" it corrupts the data, any daemonic energy within it evaporates.

"That is a problem," he has moved on to kissing her neck lightly. "What should we do to catch one for you?"

She shudders, his smooth face brushes her skin gently with each kiss. "Well, we can't just catch them," he bites her, and she inhales sharply, "since they self-destruct if they're captured."

"Any way to," his hand squeezes her side while his face sits in the crook of her neck, "deactivate the self-destruct sequence? An EMP perhaps, or some way to reprogram a unit remotely?"

"Not that I've found. Not without destroying the unit or infiltrating a base and reprogramming it without getting caught," she is breathless.

"That could be doable," he says, "infiltration." Naya suspects he doesn't mean infiltrating a base just this second. He turns her aggressively and pushes her into her pillows. His lips meet hers hungrily, and she complies. Reaching over to her nightstand, Naya shuts off the light.

. . .

The next day, Ignis wakes up to find Naya upright and clothed next to him. She'd slipped back into bed so smoothly that instead of waking up, Ignis had repositioned and set his head on her leg. Her right hand is in his hair, and her left around a cup of coffee.

"Want some?" she held the coffee out, and Ignis rose, sitting upright next to her. He leaned into her as he accepted the mug and took a deep swig.

"Naya, have I ever told you that you have a way with coffee?" he asks, she flushes.

"Oh, do I?" she chuckles lightly and shakes her head, "I'm pretty sure it's just because I introduced you to Ebony. You can't really settle for less after that."

"You may be right," he admits. He hands the mug back and sets his face in her shoulder, inhaling her deep.

"You're leaving for good today, aren't you?" Naya asked suddenly. Ignis didn't answer right away.

"Yes, I'm afraid we must continue on," he says, his voice muffled by her shoulder. He pulls away reluctantly.

"I suppose I didn't expect to ever see you again to begin with, so this parting shouldn't be sad. We should be happy we got to reconnect."

 _Parting_ drifts in both their minds. She takes in his green eyes and hold his face in her hands. "But this time," she says, "maybe we could exchange contact information? I do have a phone now that actually works."

"I would like that," he says, smiling lightly.


	6. Distance

Weeks pass, and Ignis still feels her when he closes his eyes, sees her in his dreams. He remembered this vividly from the last time they parted. Luckily this time, he didn't have to miss her for long.

 _N: Hey, what are you up to?_

 _I: I'm attempting, with little success, to sleep._

 _N: Oh, I suppose it is pretty late, isn't it?_

He doesn't answer right away, as he sees her typing icon at the bottom of the screen. He sees her quick hands running over her phone in his mind's eye, and smiles.

 _N: How is everything? Still going well?_

 _I: As well as it can, I suppose._ We've _a lead for another tomb behind a waterfall near Lestallum._

 _N: Sounds promising. You'll have to tell me about it next time you come around._

An invitation. He stops, an ache forming in his chest. She must realize, as she begins typing again.

 _N: Or you could call me, I suppose. I'm not that bad on the phone, you know._

 _I: I would rather regale you in person. I'd like to see your face._

He hovers over send for a long minute before tapping it. His heart pounded. The seconds between his text and the answer he received were some of the longest in his life.

 _N: I would like to see yours too._

His heart nearly stops.

I: _Let's try not to wait five years this time. Deal?_

 _N: Deal. Goodnight, Ignis._

 _I: Goodnight, Naya._

He shuts the screen off and exhales a heavy sigh. Prompto steps out of the tent.

"You alright, Iggy?" he asks, rubbing his eyes.

"Yes, Prompto," he says cooly, "just having a bit of trouble closing my eyes tonight."

"It's all that Ebony you drink," Prompto yawns through his words, "it keeps you up."

"I shall have to keep that in mind," Ignis allows, though he knows that isn't the case. Prompto crawls sleepily back into the tent, leaving Ignis to his thoughts and his heavy beating heart.

. . .

The dungeon is long and cold. In the quiet moments Ignis finds his mind wandering back to her, feels the itch to text her. He resists, knowing the light from his phone will interfere with his ability to see in such low light.

"Ig, you with us?" Gladio asks in a hush.

"Always," he responds seriously.

"Better be."

Ignis fights himself not to think of her, and loses.

. . .

 _I: How comes the research today? Any progress?_

She doesn't answer him right away. Her progress has hit a wall. Her results are consistent, but she hasn't been able to apply them to any practical use or test on any other subjects. If only she could get an MT, then she could really get some results.

 _N: Stagnating._

She turns her phone to silent and stows it in her pack. She's better off not compromising her position with the bright screen. She's sneaking around in a mine shaft, waiting for daemons to approach her so she can further test her inlaid runes against them. So far, the results had been promising, she'd been able to access the runes, not unlike the way a Crownsguard might call a weapon, though Ignis reported no irregularities from Noctis, so she was certain this power wasn't coming from the king.

As she made her way back up out of the mine shaft, she found her quarry. A tonberry rose from the ground before her. In the past, she may have run from it, but now, she was confident she could defeat it. What better enemy than this could she test her research on? She activated the runes on her body, and the tonberry recoiled for a moment. Her body glowed, and she called a beam of that light to the tonberry from a rune she had tattooed into her palm, as she had with so many other daemons in this very mine shaft.

. . .

 _N: Stagnating._

He could sense her irritation through the text. Back when they lived in Insomnia, he used to take this as a cue to find her in person, now that they were on separate ends of the country, that wasn't feasible. They would text one another frequently, and when things got too frustrating, they would meet, usually at her place. After they met, and found they could keep up with each other, it was hard to keep them apart. Ignis often found himself wandering to her in his free moments, and only Gladio had ever caught on.

At first, Gladio would tease his friend, but as time passed and Ignis continued seeing her, staying with her, being preoccupied with her, Gladio started to worry.

"You're not forgetting your duty, right?" Gladio would ask. Ignis always scoffed.

"I'm not sure how my visiting Naya is any different from the women you see," Ignis would retort.

It wasn't until she left and rumors circulated about her mysterious departure that Gladio really opened up on him. Ignis sent many texts into the abyss, but nothing came of it.

"She's trouble Ignis, don't go looking for her," Gladio would say. Ignis knew he couldn't go looking anyway, she was outside of Insomnia's walls, and to go that far would be to completely reject his duty to Noctis. Gladio felt the need to pound the point in further regardless.

"She was working with daemons, Ignis. Actual daemons inside the Citadel walls. From what Cor says, it was unauthorized research."

"I'm sure there's more to it that we don't know," Ignis defended. But he felt the seeds of doubt sew themselves in his heart anyway, growing in size until he saw her five years later. And now here he was again, getting the same criticism from Ignis and finding himself wandering back to her in his thoughts in every free moment.

He regarded her frustration and responded the best way he knew how.

 _I: Keep at it. I'm about to be in a position to help. I'll see what I can do about getting you an MT._

He steps out of the car, following his friends into the Disc of Cauthess.

. . .

Naya cursed, slumping against a tree. The sun is peeking through the trees. _How could I have miscalculated this far?_ The other daemons she found wouldn't have been able to harm her this way. The runes were working, so why wasn't she able to repel the small tonberry? Why didn't it burn upon touching her? At this rate, all her experimentation and training had led to nothing.

She was breathing heavily, and though the runes sped up the healing process, they weren't going quickly enough. At this rate, she would bleed out before she could get to her cache of medical supplies nearby.

 _Damn it._ She nearly bites through her lip to ward off frustrated tears. _Damn it._ _If I die here, my research dies too. If I die here everything I've done and endured is for nothing. If I die here then—_

She shakes the vision of him from her mind, though in her near-delirium she can almost feel him with her. Her heart breaks as her vision starts fading. She chokes on the blood rising from her punctured lung.

In a moment all the work she's done flashes before her, all for nothing. Her body grows weak and she slides to the ground. The leaves and grass are damp with her blood. A pack of wild dogs regard her from afar, doubtless waiting for her to die.

 _But that's life, isn't it? Someone is always waiting for you to die._ She sighs through a wry, hysteric chuckle.

"You don't really think that's the answer, do you?" Ignis asks her. What she swore was a tree backlit by sun only moments earlier is her lover and closest friend, ringed in warmth and sunlight. "Are you really going to leave me again?"

Tears roll down her cheeks, hot and desperately. One last option, with a high risk of losing herself to the very Thing she'd been researching to defeat.

With the last of her strength, she finds a tube of starscourge in her pack, some of her last. She unstoppers it, the acrid stench of death leaking from the opening, and pours it over a deep gash on her leg. In seconds, the substance takes action, worming into her body through her open wound.


	7. Scourge

Ignis is beginning to chafe. The last text he'd received from her was still that single word. Stagnating. Now that's what he was doing. His mind wandered to her whenever it wasn't preoccupied with keeping the prince safe and well-advised. Where could she be that she wasn't responding?

Ignis hold a hand out from under the awning at Wiz's caravan to feel the rain. It hits his hand and splashes off his skin. After only a moment under the downpour, the hand he pulls back is dripping onto the floor. He sneers, drying his forearm with the towel he'd brought to the doorway with him.

Years ago, in Insomnia, rain poured just like today. He held his jacket over their heads as they sprinted from the car to the door of her apartment, soaking through as she fumbled for her keys. Sides aching with laughter, Ignis and Naya discarded their sopping clothes immediately upon entry.

Shaking his head, he distances himself from the memory. Given their recent reconnection, the sensation of her is close, on the edges of his perception, scraping at him like sandpaper.

Gladio had luckily not asked him about her again. Ignis wasn't sure he could deal with another one of the big man's "I told you so"s. As it was, here he sat, burned again. He'd kept his distance, so it likely stings less than it should, but he still feels her within him.

"What's up, Specs?" Noctis asks. Noctis is more astute than he realizes. Ignis sighs.

"It's nothing to worry about, Noct. What would you like for breakfast?"

"It's definitely not nothing if you're leaving the choice of breakfast up to me," Noctis says, "you can tell me when something's bugging you, you know."

"Thank you, but I really am alright," Ignis says guiltily, lying through his teeth. "If you're not going to pick then I guess I'll just have to ask Prompto."

"No, no, I'll pick!" Noctis says quickly. He rattles off some dishes and Ignis makes a mental note to add healthy veggies to each of them.

. . .

The rain soaks her thoroughly. Her wounds were sealing, but she has little time before the Scourge within her will grow hungry. Her countermeasures weren't enough for this much unfiltered, concentrated Scourge. Her research was so flawed it makes her sick with herself.

"Hubris," she remarks, "it was all hubris."

She coughs up ichor and groans as it burns her throat, threatening to close it. The ground is wet, she loses her footing but does not slip right away. After a few pathetic steps and a misguided reach for a nearby branch, she finally lands in mud.

"I should've just let myself die at this rate," she says, though she is determined. An image of Ignis ringed in gold burns in her mind. Delerium or not, he motivated her deep into her bones.

Despite the motivation, her vision goes dark.

. . .

Damp and cranky, Ignis finds the caravan to be a welcome reprieve from their latest adventure, and he excuses himself to the bathroom immediately upon entering.

After successfully forging a covenant with the Fulgarian, Noctis had correctly ascertained the reason for Ignis' poor disposition. Declaring that he wanted to go to the tavern in the Costlemark Outpost and eat their Pulled Garula for dinner.

. . .

"She's missing," Criss says, a well-worn crease decorating her forehead.

"Missing?" Ignis and Gladio, who had been eavesdropping, ask simultaneously.

"Yeah," Criss says, drying a glass, "she sometimes misses a day coming in, but it's been over a week now and nothing. She almost always comes in for at least one square meal per day. I'm worried she's gotten herself into trouble with that research of hers."

Gladio looks at Ignis seriously. It's not quite I told you so, but it's close. Ignis would be annoyed were he not worried. A week is about the amount of time since he'd last heard from her as well. He says nothing and steps back to the table where Noctis and Prompto had been playing King's Knight. Both were off their phones now, eyes on him.

"What do you want to do, Specs?" Noctis asks.

"Well, I should think that is up to you, Noct," he says as casually as he can manage. He stubbornly aligns with his duty, though his heart is clouded with worry and anxiety.

"I need a bit, I think," the prince says carefully. "Might want to rest up here for a few nights. It would benefit us to pick up some extra cash too. Gladio, Prompto, and I will do a few hunts in the area while you plan our next move," Noctis smiles, "sound good, Advisor Scientia?"

"A very pragmatic plan, highness," Ignis coughs and adjusts his glasses, touched at the concern. Gladio isn't super pleased, but says nothing.

"Alright, then it's settled!" Prompto says, grinning. "We'll hunt down bad guys while Iggy figures out how to get our car back."

"Yes, quite," Ignis stands immediately, "be careful out there. If you bite off more than you can chew, do call me."

They agree to take care and Ignis steps outside starting at her home. Some clue as to where she went may lie inside.

. . .

Naya is being torn apart. The energy generated by the scourge's invasion solved the initial problem of healing her body, but now was overwhelming her. She had barely managed to drag herself back into town, and was now breaking into her own cellar. She must have something in storage, anything. Naya fought desperately against the scourge trying to take over her body.

She put all of her strength into a punch, and manages only to crack the glass and earn a tidy cut on her hand. She drags herself around, the glass shards in her hand protesting the movement with each dig into the earth. When she has sufficient leverage, she pushes a shaking leg through the window, glass carving her at every opportunity. She kicks a few more times, aware of the blood running hot out of her leg, burning her icy skin.

. . .

Ignis carefully opens the door, finding the key exactly where he expects: above the door frame. Naya never had patience for keeping track of keys or things like that. If she had to use a key it was unproductively close to the thing it opened.

He steps inside and finds the house looking much the same as it had last time he was here. Clean and unadorned. As if this were a convenient building with a bed and kitchen and not someone's home. Without its owner, it lacks even the charm of a hotel.

He makes his way to the kitchen to find one coffee mug soaking in the sink. Everything else is in order, and looked as though she never lived here, let alone left. Ignis is shocked he didn't realize how minimal her home was before, but remembers exactly what had him preoccupied at the time.

Stepping lightly into her bedroom, Ignis breathes Naya's scent. Though it's faded from the other rooms, it can't separate from this one. He closes his eyes for a long moment, imagining her in it before she left, looking for her in the carelessly tossed sheets, in the indent on the window seat, in the clothes overfilling the hamper. He sits on the bed for a moment, observing her room, trying to find some indication of her location, when he hears glass shattering in the basement.

. . .

Naya slides in, falling heavily to the ground, and immediately drags her warring body to the chest across the room. Cursing her paranoia, she engages the complex pattern locking mechanism, only to fumble her first attempts. She grunts with rage and frustration, feeling her fingertips bleed as she tries again and too hard. She almost doesn't notice when someone breaks down her thrice-locked cellar door and rushes down the stairs.

"Naya?" It is Ignis. How can it be Ignis? He isn't supposed to see this.

He regards her carefully, her body looks strange, skin pale, with dark veins reaching across her, strangling her once olive skin. The whites of her eyes are being overtaken with black, and her tears are tinted with blood. He recognizes the substance clawing through her body like a parasite.

"Naya, what have you done to yourself?" Ignis asks, his eyebrows knitted together in worry and confusion, he looks into her eyes and very nearly looks away as the Scourge slides into her irises like hot tar. He is at her side in a moment, testing her pulse, her temperature, thinking futilly of ways to save her. She is ice cold.

"No time," she chokes, blood slipping from her lips. "open."

Her hand slides off the chest next to her. It is slick with blood. The locking mechanism is difficult. A pattern lock that looks intricate. He'll have to slide his finger through the lock in the proper pattern to release all of the tumblers and open the box. He notes more blood on the mechanism and her injured fingers and assumes it's trapped if activated incorrectly.

"Dr. Westholm's original prism," she sputters. "In the ideal efficiency matrix." He understands and places a shaking finger into the mechanism. He slides it in the proper way and—

A needle stabs his fingertips. He'd slipped in the blood left from Naya's last attempt. A crash behind him turns his head, and he sees Naya pulling herself up to reach into a bag on a shelf. She attempts to open it and falls instead, taking it and the contents with her. Syringes clatter out of the bag, some breaking on the floor.

"Naya!" He shouts, his voice ignoring his logic. He makes to get up and she shakes her head.

"Just," she coughs, still weak, "open the chest."

He tries again after a deep breath, and succeeds this time and the chest opens. Immediately, a pale blue glow floods the basement, reflecting on the blood and Scourge following Naya from the broken window.

Tubes of glowing blue liquid sit inside, it's almost metallic and seems to ungulate. His eyes widen as he recognizes the glow of the crystal in it. "What is this—?"

"Inject me," she says sharply, her eyes slipping out of focus. Her bleeding hand finds her heart. "at the source. No time."

Her free hand sports an intimidating needle. Ignis takes it, breathing his nerves away. "How much?" He asks, her head slumps. "Naya! How much?" He demands, shaking her awake.

"All of it," she says, "the full syringe, I mean."

He fills it, and after a moment's hesitation, he plunges it into her heart.


	8. Conflict

Naya's body seizes for a moment, Ignis holds her steady until she slumps, limp on the floor. He's close enough to hear that she's still breathing. Her veins burn light blue, and the light follows her trail of blood out the window, burning all the Scourge in its path.

The heat and color is rushing back into her skin. She coughs, and her wounds stop bleeding but do not close. Ignis carefully picks her up, moving her upstairs. Her brow is furrowed, a deep crease betraying her pain. Ignis is equal parts furious and worried. He compartmentalizes long enough to treat her. To pour a potion into her wounds, and sew up what didn't heal from the first treatment. He wiped away what must have been days worth of blood and scourge and dirt. He did so clinically, pushing the surging and warring anger and relief aside.

"Ignis," she said suddenly, "Ignis, I…" She is asleep, muttering something that must be happening in her mind. Reliving what had transpired in the basement, perhaps? He leans closer, hoping to hear

He isn't sure what he wants to hear. I love _you?_ I'm _sorry? I gave you at least one single thought when I did this to myself?_

After he cleans as much as he can while she's unconscious, he steps into the kitchen and looks for food to prepare for when she awakens. He is unsurprised to find only coffee and cup ramen, and steps out to fetch ingredients from the car.

. . .

Naya awakens slowly, finding herself patched up on her sofa. She notices the blood staining her couch passively, adding "clean the sofa" to her list of to-dos when she is able to move properly again. She inspects her hand, finding it cleaned and stitched up. Her leg is the same.

She runs a hand through her hair to find it caked with dirt and blood, and sighs.

"Ignis?" She calls quietly. She doesn't hear him anywhere nearby. The sun is rising, which means she must have slept through the night. She stands carefully, her injured leg almost giving way beneath her. Putting weight on it aggravates the stitching. Moving it aggravates the stitching. Everything she does aggravates the stitching.

She limps carefully to her bedroom and finds him lying on her bed, her room is cleaner than it's been since she moved in. Her laundry is done and stowed. She smiles, imagining him angrily cleaning her house. She creeps past him into her restroom, and shuts the door.

Ignis' eyes open to the sound of the lock clicking into place.

. . .

When she emerges, clean after some trouble, Naya can smell food cooking. It is then she remembers she hasn't eaten more than mushrooms in a week. Strangely, she doesn't feel hungry.

Suddenly she is nervous. How will she speak to him after what he saw? She opts to start casually.

"Smells great," she leans on the door frame, keeping weight off her injured leg. "What are you cooking?"

"A healthy mix of garula steak, Leiden peppers, and some other veggies I had on hand," he says methodically, flipping the steak with a practiced motion, "full of nutrients to promote healing."

Naya regards him carefully, still feeling trepidatious, but unable to keep a smile from leaking into her expression.

"Thank you," she says softly, "without you there—"

"What were you thinking? Scourge?" He doesn't turn from his work, though his words seethe.

"I got myself in a bind," she sputters, "it was the only thing I had to get myself out of it. I would've died otherwise."

"You almost died anyway!" He places the steak on a bed of vegetables and turns to her, his voice rising and his harsh look focused in her eyes. "And worse, you could've become a demon! You could have killed everyone in this town!"

Naya is silent for a moment. She was aware of all that when she did it, but she had to try to survive.

"I understood that when I did it," she said slowly, trying to calm him, "but after some analysis the pros outshone the cons. I had to try."

"Gladio was right about you," the words cut her. "You aren't capable of thinking beyond yourself, beyond your research. What if I had been a day later? I'd likely have to be the one to kill you. Did you think about that? About me?"

She can't keep her eyes from pooling any longer. "You asshole," she sniffs before raising her voice, "don't you understand that if not for you I would not have taken such a risk?"

He stops, his glare shocked into surprise. Naya forges ahead, words tumbling from her mouth before she could control them.

"I was in this cold-ass cave, bleeding out. I made a grave mistake and it nearly cost me my life. Knowing that I had only Scourge to save me, I was prepared to die there and avoid the grizzlier fate you've just described. But in my haze of blood loss and asphyxiation, I thought of you, and I made a stupid decision to try to live. I saw you as clearly as I see you now. I was fully aware you weren't there, but I couldn't stop myself from pouring the Scourge into my wounds. Saving myself so I could—"

She cuts herself off. They've never been a Real Couple. Never been serious, no matter how seriously she took him.

"So you could what?" He asks, breathlessly.

"So I could see you again," she says, sounding so small it breaks his heart, "it's stupid, as you said, and selfish, risking all those lives for myself. But in what could've been my last moments, all I could think of was leaving you here. Disappearing without a trace again, this time forever, and I couldn't let it happen."

Ignis is torn. "Why were you in that position? Was it your research? What are you studying that could get you killed like that? Why wouldn't you bring elixirs or potions at least?"

"I should've, I know. I just got to cocky, too sure I was right."

"You're dodging my question," he says, his voice dark, "what won't you tell me?"

"The research isn't important, I failed anyway. It's anti-daemon research, as I told you before."

It isn't an answer and they both know it. Steam rises from the steak on the counter, and Naya's eyes find it involuntarily. Ignis sighs and places it on the table between them.

"You need to eat something, Naya. We'll continue this conversation after you eat."

He steps into the living room, and she can see him peering out the window, arms crossed.

She follows his direction, eating the carefully prepared dish. Every bite is delicious, thoughtful, and well-paired. His choice of veggies is flawless, and she's sure he carefully selected each to provide a specific nutritional benefit.

"Thank you," she says as she finishes, stepping into the living room, "I really did need that."

"Nutrition is important. Try to eat full meals until you're 100%," his voice is even, painfully logical. Naya dreads this state of mind. The sun rings him through the window like he's made of light.

"You're right. I'll do that."

The silence sits on their shoulders precariously, and they sit in it for a moment knowing what's coming.

"Do you have to do it?" Ignis keeps his eyes outside. "This research. Insomnia has fallen. Demons are a problem, but the hunters and the remaining crownsguard and glaives are taking care of it. People are protecting the citizens, do you have to be the one to fight this battle?"

"I'm the only one who can. At least on behalf of what's left of Lucis. The empire's research stays in Gralea and is dedicated to weapons. I could save all these people, and I could save you. I'm so close, Ignis, just a few more tries and I know I'll have it."

"Then why can't you tell me more? Why do you have to do it alone? You dodge my questions, avoid the subject. What were you doing that put you in that position?"

"It's not important, and it won't happen again."

"It's important to me!" he says, nearly shouting as he turns to face her. Her eyes are wide as they stagnate for a moment. sees the fervent look in her eyes, the way her hands grip her elbows as she leans in the doorway. He remembers Gladio's words. _We've seen her type before, her research is priority one. Just because she didn't choose to leave you doesn't mean it isn't because of her._

"I was testing something on demons in a cavern. I came upon a tonberry and my measures weren't enough. I killed it and barely escaped."

"Again with the vaguery. What are you hiding?" she grips her sides, feeling the scarring from her experimentation.

"This isn't going to work," Ignis says suddenly, turning back to the window. "We're bad for each other."

"That seems dramatic," she says, feeling the ice he pushes off, "we've only just found each other again—"

"And already we're affecting each other, risking important things, putting others in danger."

She is stunned into silence, she knows he's right, she understands the stupidity of it, her logical mind agrees. But her heart screams at her to stop him, keep him here. Do anything at all. As she had so many times before, she ignores it.

"I cannot be distracted by something so volatile as us," he continues cruelly. Part of Naya understands that he is hurting himself as well as her, but the other part can't breathe. "We literally derailed the mission so that I could find you. Gladio has been right all along. You're affecting me too much. I have to focus on my duty to Noct."

Her eyes overflow, but his back is to her. She breathes slowly, finding any piece of him in the air that still cares for her. Finding nothing to give her nerve, she relents. Her heart breaks and she lets it.

"That is a very rational decision," she says carefully, "and I understand why you've made it." It is everything she can do to keep her voice even. He doesn't turn to her, he can't.

"Do not," he catches for a moment, "do not contact me. I've given this a lot of thought, and determined this to be the best course of action. We will be better if we don't see each other again."

"You are probably right," she is unable to keep her voice even, and Ignis fights the urge to turn around.

"We won't be back after this."

"Of course."

"Stay safe, Naya."

"You too."

The door shuts behind him, and as soon as it is closed, Naya sinks heavily to the floor, tears pouring down her cheeks. Ignis takes a moment to compose himself, adjusting his glasses and pushing his feelings away, and walks back to the tavern.


End file.
